Tryst
by CarcinogenRush
Summary: We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us. Karma


**A/N: Hey, guys..I was trying to write another chapter for my story, The Forbidden Fruit, when the inspiration for this little oneshot hit me. Read, review, keep me happy! =] I hope you enjoy! The Sweet Far Thing never happened. Well, no, it did. But this is non-compliant to the end. **

**Tryst**

The stiff fabric of my dress softly swishes as I descend the staircase to the darkened ballroom. The clock strikes the hour of the night as my foot reaches the last step, and a hand reaches out for mine. I curtsy as he bows, and we make our way to the middle of the floor.

"So this is what it is like?" he murmurs, one hand coming to rest on the small of my back.

"More or less," I reply, resting my head against his chest and inhaling his scent; cinnamon and wood smoke. "Though I must say, I've never such a fine partner before."

He says nothing, but pulls me closer. I revel in the contact of our bodies, the warmth between us. Softly, he hums a melody as we twirl our way around the room. He spins me once, and we revert to our gentle swaying.

This…_this_ is bliss. This is paradise. This is love, our bodies moving in peaceful tandem. I raise my eyes to meet his as we dance. I can never get enough of his beauty-his perfectly carved face, his eyes that remind me of melted chocolate, his beautiful curls…everything. He brushes a stray curl from my face, his eyes searching mine. Without a word, he spins me out. Holding my arm out at its length, he kisses my hand and slowly trails kisses up the bare skin of my arm. My skin tingles where his lips touch, and I feel my cheeks heat up. Tenderly, I am pulled back into him, fitting perfectly against his body.

"Miss Doyle..my Gemma," he murmurs, brushing hair behind my ear and staring down into my eyes. There is a desire there, and I know he finds it in my eyes as well.

"Kartik," I whisper back, running a finger along his jaw line. Silence washes over us as we move in unison, our eyes never leaving each others' faces. As we whirl about, we press tighter to each other, reveling in each other's touch. Gently, he lets me go, taking only my hand.

"Follow me," Kartik says quietly, his voice husky. Wordlessly, I follow. We make our way across the lawn, past the rose garden, past the barn. Night envelopes us, mist settling around our feet. My dress rustles as it moves across the dewy grass. Finally, we stop, surrounded by trees.

"Where..?"

"This is where I come to think," he says, looking up at the sky. Thousand of stars glitter back down on us. I follow his gaze, staring up with him.

"Why have you brought me here?" I asked, finally breaking my transfixion and looking back towards him. He lowers his mouth to mine, and I am lost.

My fingers knot in his soft curls; his hands roam, first on my neck, slowly down my sides until they come to rest on the small of my back. After a moment, we break apart, breathless.

"Gemma," he says, running his fingers up and down my side. The heat in his voice sends shivers down my spine. Our eyes lock, and there are a thousand unspoken words between us. Love. Lust. Desire. Longing. Pain. "Stay with me, Gemma."

"What?" I say, searching his face. I do not understand what he means.

"Stay with me," he repeats. "Do not marry him." Pain is etched in his eyes. We both look down at my left hand. The ring there glints in the moonlight, as if taunting him. _Look what you can never have, Kartik._

"I must," I whisper. "Our family is falling in shambles around us, Kartik. I cannot abandon my family, not even for love." It pains me to say it. Oh, to run away and be with only Kartik, alone, for the rest of my life. But no. I am soon to be married to a duke, a proper man who can bring restoration the Doyle name, and with it, an end to our midnight trysts.

"Love," Kartik says, his voice soft and pained. "Love."

"Love," I murmur. His rough hands take hold of my face, forcing me to look up at him. My heart pounds painfully as I stare at him. "I've fallen in love with a gypsy," I say with a small, sad laugh.

"I've fallen in love with a socialite," he states, his thumb rubbing against my cheek gently. I close the space between us, sweeping his lips with mine, my heart breaking with every kiss. I know that however many times I kiss the duke, I shall never feel a sixteenth of what I do when I kiss Kartik.

* * *

><p>I sit at my nightstand, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror as I brush my hair. A married woman…a married woman. Never did I think that the name <em>Gemma Doyle<em> would be looped together in a sentence with those three words. Yet here I sit, a silver band snaked around my ring finger. With a sigh, I rise and make my way to the window to draw the curtains. Just as I move to close them, a flash of red catches my eye. A red cloth, tied to the ivy. My heart catches; the signal is familiar. I steal a glance at the door, and then back to the window. After a moment's hesitation, I open the window and crawl down the lattice.

"You came," a voice whispered behind me.

"I did," I say, turning to face him. Hurriedly, I head towards the stables, motioning Kartik to follow me. "You shouldn't be here," I inform him, my heart not truly behind the scolding.

"Nor should you," he points out. "But here we are, nonetheless."

"Here we are," I repeat, biting my lip. I move further into the stable, away from the door. Kartik follows closely, his hands grazing my waist.

"Gemma, I-"

I press my lips against his, cutting him off. He responds, kissing me fiercely. I snake my arms around his neck and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him tightly. This is wrong. This is wrong on so many levels that I have lost count. But oh, how it feels so right. How it feels perfect to be in his arms, as if we were made for each other, and for each other alone. We break apart, our breathing labored and eyes bright.

Laying on our sides, we become nestled in the straw and hay piling in the corner. He pushes back loose curls from my face, tucking them softly behind my ears before leaning in for another kiss. Before I know it, I am underneath his body.

"Love," I whisper.

"Love," he agrees.

"_We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us.__"_

_ -Francois Rabelais_

**Hey y'all, I know it's short and all, but it was floating around, so I thought I'd share it with you. Reviews would be most welcome! **


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